My Little Dean
by Birdageddon
Summary: Dean pissed off a witch and is now dealing with the consequences. Never once in his life did he think he would need to depend on someone for.. well, anything. He and Sam need to find a way to end this curse, and Dean is hoping they do sooner than later. - pony!dean , protective!sam , weirded-out!kevin, is-there-too!cas - fluff/angst/humor? EDIT: GALLONS OF ANGST/actually might redo
1. Chapter 1

**This isn't my first story but I'm not the best writer. Is an idea I came up with when looking over some pony dean drawings I did. I want to complete this story so expect another chapter soon, that is if I get a good response on chapter one. Anyway, sorry for holdin ya. Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the Supernatural characters.**

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The witch laughed at Dean as she pinned him to the wall. "What? Not strong enough to escape?" She mocked. Dean struggled but to no avail. "Why not ask for help?" She teased once again."But then again, that's against your manly code, aint it?"

Dean choked on her force, naively trying to snap back with some snarky remark.

"I think you need to learn a lesson of some some sort, don't you?" She walked back and forth tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I have an idea.. After this, you'll have no choice but ask for help. Beg for it really. How pathetic you'll be" She smirked and lifted her hand, and sent forth a green light.

The light engulfed dean nearly completely before a Sam came in and barreled into her. She lost her footing and grip on Dean. Dean fell to the floor, barely getting bruised.

Sam quickly decapitated the witch and stood up from his kill. Sam turned to Dean with urgency. "Dean, are you ok? What did she do?" Dean turned to look at his brother, "Eh, nothing too much. She mocked my manhood and tried to cast a spell on me." Sam looked up shocked, "A spell, are you ok? What was she trying to do?" Dean shrugged. "I dunno man, she tried doing something that would 'make me ask for help'? Didn't make a lick of sense. Don't worry about it though, you killed the witch so we're all good right?" Sam nudged her body with his boot, "Yep." Dean sniffed. "Great then, let's go. Jobs done." Dean got up and walked out the door while Sam followed.

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 **- _3 days later-_**

* * *

"Hey Sam?" Dean's voice called from the bathroom.

They had stopped in a run down town to investigate what looked like a possible case.

"Ya?" Sam called back from his place on his bed, putting on his boots.

"I uh.. I think I have a problem.." Dean paused.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, standing up from his former seat and walking over to the bathroom door. Dean was busy observing himself in the mirror. "Dean, what's up?" Sam asked again. "Is it just me or do I look like one of Santa's helpers?" Dean finally responded.

He turned around and gestured to his ears. Sam looked closely at Dean's ears and saw that the that the tops of them had a bit of a tip to them. It wasn't too odd, but they definitely did not have the tips before. "Weird.." Sam said. "Did you sleep on it funny?: Dean rolled his eyes. "Ya, I don't think so." Sam shrugged and walked back out into their room. "Well, it does look like a problem, I'll admit, but I'm not sure what it could be." He pulled out his laptop and bulled up a search browser. "I'll check it out, but it doesn't look to serious."

Dean gave Sam an odd look, "It doesn't look serious? Are you kidding me? I look like I belong in a magical forest." Dean picked up a beer and opened it up, taking a sip of the contents.

"Well," Sam said thoughtfully, "It could be a curse."

"A curse?" Dean asked.

"Remember that witch who tried to curse you or whatever about.. say.. three , four days ago?" Sam guessed.

"Nah man, we ganked that witch. Anything she tried to pull would have been stopped, right?"

"I suppose, that's usually how it works. It's possible though. I don't know how else it could have happened." Sam countered.

Dean nodded in reply, "True, but how would making' me look like and elf make me beg for help."

"Doesn't make sense, I'll admit. Just keep your mind open though, ok?" Sam offered, hoping to reassure his brother.

Dean took another swig of his beer. He will admit, he was confused. He was more concerned, however, about his ears. Although, there was a spark in the back of his mind that made him worry. What if this wasn't all there was to the spell. The witch said he would need help. What did she mean by that? As much as he was worried about his situation, Dean had bigger things to worry about. Like what he was going to eat for breakfast.

Sam looked over to Dean. Something seemed.. off. He couldn't place his finger on it, but he could almost swear that Dean looked.. smaller.


	2. Chapter 2

**Still not an amazing writer, but I'm trying. Thank you so much for those who started to follow the story and the lovely quick review! It made me so happy to see people interested! Thank you so much for the support, and to help kick off the story a bit more, here's another chapter. I'm sorry it's a bit slow and dragged out, I'm honestly really wanting to get to the good stuff as well. I'll try and post chapter 3 soon. If we're lucky I'll have it up tomorrow. Another quick note, when I say pony!Dean, it'll be like mlp pony stuff, but not quite. I'm thinking a bit smaller.. and cuter. Eh, idk. We'll see. Enjoy~**

 **Disclaimer: See first chapter.**

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The brothers walked out of another interviewed home. Their luck on this case was looking rather poor. The brothers had hoped it had been a ghost case, but so far, no dice.

"It doesn't add up to anything weird, like our weird. Looks like just a robbery that got messy." Sam sighed.

"Hate to admit it but it is lookin' that way." Dean replied. "Let's check around one more time before we leave though."

Sam nodded in agreement, pulling out his phone and checking the time with a "mhm"

Dean tugged at his sleeve cautiously for the hundredth time that day, a slight look of discomfort on his face.

Sam looked up to see his action and noticed something odd..

Dean's sleeve was longer. Not horribly so, but Dean's jacket always ended at his wrists. Yet, looking at it now, it went down to mid palm, if not further.

"Hey, uh, did your jacket stretch in the wash or..?" Sam tried to approach.

Dean looked up at Sam, a bit of an annoyed look on his face, but Sam could see some shock in the mix. "Yeah, yeah.. sure." Dean quickly answered.

Dean turned to walk around to the driver's side of the Impala, impatient to leave.

Sam couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with Dean..

The ears, the jacket, small things that could easily be small effects from the curse put upon Dean a few days earlier. Sam hadn't thought too much of it at first, but he would be lying if he said it didn't start to freak him out.

Sam shrugged these feelings off as best as he could and got in the car.

He hoped the car ride might calm him down and help him clear his thoughts.

"So where are we headed now?" Sam asked.

"Eh, we'll stop by the police station, get a couple of checks on the corpse and if it's not our thing, we'll move on to bigger and better things."

Sam agreed with the plan and waited for Dean to start driving. But he didn't.

"Well, are we going or..?" Sam glanced curiously at Dean.

"Someone moved my seat."

"What?"

"I never move the seat, but it's not in its normal place. Did you move it? You know you're supposed to put it back after you drive!"

"I haven't touched it!" Sam's tone rose a bit in defense.

Dean glared at him for a moment, moved the seat up ever so slightly, and started the engine.

The Impala was soon on the road and back on track.

They later reached the station and went inside, briefly speaking with the chief before entering the morgue. Upon further inspection of the corpse, they had to admit, this didn't look like a case for them. Which was ok with Sam. He was sure Dean would be a bit disappointed, but this would give him the opportunity to look into his brother's condition.

They exited the building and entered the safety of the Impala.

"So I assume we're going back to the bunker?" Sam inquired.

"Yep, I don't know about you but I'm homesick." Dean replied with a smirk.

Sam rolled his eyes. He wouldn't exactly call the bunker home. He wasn't sure if he ever could.

Although Dean didn't say anything this time, Sam noticed Dean move the seat forward ever so slightly once more. Then again, how could he not? The front of the impala was one bench seat.

With Sam a tad uncomfortable from his decreasing space, they drove to the motel to pack up their gear.

During the drive, Sam couldn't shake his odd suspicions. He glanced at Dean's ears and noticed that they had, well, moved. It was like they barely had slid up his jaw bone. The tips sharper than before. His eyes then wandered to Deans sleeves. Not much had changed since the last time he saw them.. until they slid back down from when Dean pulled them up. They covered three fourths of the pack of his palm.

After some careful consideration, he decided to try and get Dean to talk about it, even if it was unlikely.

"You feeling ok?" Sam tried. "Your sleeves-"

"I'm fine." Dean cut in.

"Like you said, just stretched from the wash."

Sam wasn't even sure a sturdy jacket like that could be 'stretched in the wash'. When was the last time Dean washed that thing anyway? Well, it was obvious Dean wasn't going to address his current situation. It wasn't like it was a secret, though the new changes must be embarrassing.

"Dean I think-"

"I said I was fine. Let's just get back to the motel, you look up a way to end a dead witches curse, and we're on our way." Dean cut in once again.

Sam shrugged, tired. "Ya, sure."

Why wouldn't Dean talk to him about it? These new changes weren't hard to miss. Sam knew Dean was cursed. It would be helpful to know any and all side effects, that way they could figure out just what the witch had intended to do to him.

They reached their motel room in the late afternoon, the sun threatening to set. The brothers were tired and a bit bummed. Their ghost lead was a bust. They lumbered into their small rented room, Dean crashing on the bed while Sam went into the bathroom. Dean sat up to kick of his shoes when he noticed he didn't have to. He had stumbled over his shoes near the doorway, causing them to fall off in the process.

"What the…" Dean wondered. He stared at them like the shoes themselves would tell him what was happening. Only silence answered him. He took his heavy jacket off and fell back on the bed.

He was tired of this little spell and was itching for a cure. I mean, how awkward is it to just kinda...shrink, in front of your own brother?

When Sam came out of the bathroom, he was met with another pleasant surprise. Dean was fast asleep and seemed to be unaware that the distance between his heels and toes had lengthened. They had an almost animal look to them now.

Sam settled on his own bed and pulled up his laptop. It was time he try to figure out just what was going on.

The time on the clock seemed to tick on as Sam dug up what he could. They didn't know what the spell was trying to do so it was hard to pinpoint exactly what he was looking for. He didn't find much other than multiple sources saying that killing a witch cancels any curse given by them.

After some time Sam was incredibly frustrated.

He thought that kevin might be able to find something but he was sure the kid went to bed hours ago. Even if he hadn't Sam didn't want to bother him at this time of night. They already worked him down to the bone constantly. Sam figured it would be best to just look for answers himself when they got to the bunker tomorrow. Actually, today. It was 3 am already.

Sam stretched, pulled his hair back, and closed his computer. The dead feeling of the room was starting to get to him. Silence eating away at what was left of Sams energy. Sam moved his laptop to the side table and got into more comfortable clothing. As he climbed into the unwelcoming scratchy sheets, Sam looked over to Dean one last time before getting some shut eye. He looked ok, other than the fact that he was cursed.

Sam supposed that Dean would be ok til morning.

If these oddball changes got worse, Sam may need to drive. Although, that wouldn't work out if Sam wouldn't be able to keep his eyes open tomorrow. Well, today.

Sam shuffled around in his bed until comfortable and finally let sleep take over.

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Sunlight filtered in through the window, rousing Sam from his much needed, still needed, rest.

Sam did a once over of the room, finding Dean's bed empty.

He quickly looked around to find the bathroom door closed with the shower running water within.

Sam stood up groggily from his bed to find his duffle-bag.

Despite Sam's worries, the atmosphere felt calm. It felt like an average pack-up-and-go morning. He felt confident in the day, like everything turn out alright.

They always found a way.

Sam changed into more suitable clothing and snatched the keys to the impala from atop the table. He decided to go grab some breakfast, figuring he might be back before Dean got out of the shower.

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Dean felt the repeating drops of water against his skin cease as he turned off the shower. Admittedly, showering wasn't something he did all too often, but today felt good. He and Sam would find a way to stop his elf spell and he would be back to kickin' butt.

He dried off and got into his clothing for the day, the average routine. Well, it would have been. His clothing didn't fit quite right. He didn't want such a good morning to be ruined. He knew that there might have been some more changes. This was fine. He would be fine.

He pulled his sleeves up and struggled with his belt for a minute, but all in all, he was good to go. As he used his sleeve to clear the fogged mirror, he was stopped short.

He stared at himself in the mirror with pure shock and horror.

Dread and confusion curled up his spine and toyed with his insides, causing him to be nauseous. He heard the door to the room open and close.

Sam must have gone somewhere…

This was going to be awkward. The height thing, he could almost handle. This, however, was something else. He didn't quite look like himself.

"Hey dude, you still in there? We should get going!" Dean heard Sam call from the other room.

"I, uh, I'll be out in a minute." Dean replied, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice.

He did a lousy job. Sam could tell something was up.

So much for such an awesome morning, huh?

"Dean did something happen?" Sam tried.

"No I'm fine, just fine."

"You sure?" Sam eyed the door, waiting.

"We gotta go. You coming or am I leaving you here?" He tried to tease.

There was a slow silence after that. Soft shuffling could be heard beyond the bathroom door.

"Dean?"

Sam waited for an answer, slowly becoming worried. Maybe it was because of the curse? Did it get worse?

Before he could call out to Dean again, Sam heard a quiet reply.

"Actually… I'm not OK. I, uh, .. hmm" Dean couldn't quite find his words.

The door to the bathroom was pushed open. Sam stared in, not knowing what to expect.

"I honestly don't know what to make of it." Dean said, walking out.

Sam couldn't agree more.

Dean's ears were even higher, bigger, and sharper. In fact, Sam doubted they could even be called 'human ears' at this point. Dean's height loss was also astonishing. He had lost almost two feet over night. Possibly a foot and a half. Dean's sleeves were rolled up pretty high, and it was almost a miracle how he got his pants to stay up.

Then there was the last thing that struck as most unsettling. It wasn't a horrifyingly dominant feature.. yet.

Dean had a muzzle.


	3. Chapter 3

**YO. Ok. So I actually have important stuff here this time.**

 **I tried to keep this chapter light and humorous but I couldn't help myself so there's a dark section at the end of this chapter. It's a bit intense, I will admit. I'm a bit numb to the kind of stuff so I apologize. BUT never fear, I will keep the rest of the story as light and funny as possible. Its just fun/necessary to add intense moments in the story. -w-**

 **My friend, Crianu, helped out a little with this chapter. So, thank you Cri!**

 **She will actually have a bigger part to play in helping me wright this story. More or less, she'll be helping me with editing and add a joke here and there. This chapter is full of my attempts at jokes. So sorry if their not all that funny..**

 **I would love feedback on how you feel the story is moving!**

 **OK- CHAPTER WARNINGS: over sized jacket ;v; ,, pie ,, sick!dean ,, blood**

 **Disclaimer: See first chapter.**

 ** _SORRY FOR THE LONG NOTE ~ ENJOY_**

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Sam stood there for what felt like forever, gawking at his brothers new feature.

Dean soon got uncomfortable and seem to wince back under his younger brothers stare.

"I.. w-what's happening to me?" Dean asked with a bit of fear in his voice.

The action also caught Sam off guard. Not only did the muzzle make Dean a bit unrecognizable, but Dean just winced. Sam eyed Dean carefully, not entirely sure how to respond.

"Does it.. hurt?" Sam asked with uncertainty.

"No? Not really. It feels weird, though." How hadn't Dean noticed before?...

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was all a bit much to take in.

He couldn't imagine how it must feel for Dean.

Sam smirked, "On the bright-side, I don't think you're turning into an elf."

"So then what am I turning into?.."

"Some kind of animal I guess, I don't know man."

Dean took a seat on his bed and tried to cover his face with his hands as best as he could.

The awkward atmosphere didn't help with Dean's slowly rising fears. He was hoping today would be a good day, but any chance of that seemed to drip away as the reality of the situation sunk in. These weren't just small changes here and there, his body was actually becoming something else. Dean slowly raised his head from his hands, looking over at Sam, who was still staring.

"What?" Dean growled.

Sam's eyebrows raised, "What? What do you mean, 'what'? Dude, this is insane! Look at yourself!"

Dean rolled his eyes. He wanted this weird drug trip to be over.

Sam, wanting to focus on anything else, pulled out his phone and began to dial a familiar number.

"I'm going to call Kevin, ok?" Sam informed Dean

Dean turned and flopped down face first onto the bed and groaned into his pillow.

"Ya sure cool" Came the muffled reply.

Sam raised his eyebrows and frowned a bit.

He then shrugged it off and turned to his phone, making the call.

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Kevin was caught of guard during his breakfast when his phone began to ring.

He picked it up, accepted the call, and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" Kevin answered.

"Hey Kevin, can you do me a favor?" Sam responded on the other end.

"Oh hey Sam, ya what can I do for ya?" Kevin replied cooly.

"I need you to find a way to end a dead witches curse."

"Ok? What's going on?" Kevin asked in confusion.

"Well, I ganked a witch right after she tried to curse Dean. We thought we were in the clear but Dean is experiencing some … side effects."

"So you mean the curse is still active?"

"I don't know, sure seems like it; seeing as Dean is now a long nosed midget."

Kevin comically spat out his drink onto the table. "Wait, what!?"

"We don't know exactly what's going on, but it looks like Dean is turning into some kind of animal." Sam explained.

"What kind of animal?" Kevin inquired.

"Can't tell, but at the rate the transformation is going, we'll be able to tell pretty soon." Sam said with slight irritation in his voice. "Listen, just try to find what you can, ok? We'll try to get to the bunker some time today."

"Alright. Hey Sam, can you send me a picture?" Kevin teased.

Kevin could hear Sam sigh into the phone, "Just start looking, ok?".

A click was heard, signaling the call had ended.

Kevin threw his phone onto the table, accidentally tossing it into the puddle he made when he spat out his drink. "Are you kidding me!?" Kevin growled, snatching his phone out of the puddle and began to wipe it off as best as he could.

"Welp, here goes." Kevin said to the empty space of the bunker as he pushed his chair out and stood. He then wandered into the maze of ancient files within the bunker to see what he could find.

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Sam hung up the phone and quietly slipped his phone into his pocket.

He turned to Dean finding him still in his face down position.

 _Wait, face down?_

"How are you doing that?"

"What?" Came the muffled reply.

"You have a dog snout now, how are you lying face down?"

Dean shifted and sat up, glaring at Sam. "Dog snout? Dude it's not that long! I can still lay down fine." Sam raised his eyebrows into his little, "Hm" face. Sam walked over his duffle and began to put clothes and any other items of his belonging within.

"Let's get goin'. I told Kevin we'd try to be there sometime today." Sam informed, glancing back at his brother.

"I know, I heard." Dean replied, his ear flicking in irritation.

Sam just stared at his ear for a second with a weird look on his face.

"Dude, stop staring!" Dean barked.

"RIGHT, right, sorry." Sam apologized, turning back around to pick up his bag.

"Pack up. I got some breakfast, it's over there on the table." Sam made a small gesture to the two fast food breakfast biscuits still wrapped in a thin paper.

"Sweet!" Dean immediately got up and walked over to the table to unwrap his food. He had paused a second before grabbing them however. It was odd to find the table taller than it was yesterday..

He couldn't have lost that much height, he had to be at least 5"4.

The whole height loss thing was extremely trippy, he was close to 6ft tall just yesterday.

It was even more discomforting when Dean found that he only came up to just below Sam's shoulder.

He scarfed the biscuits down and began to pack up his things as well, wanting to get out of the motel and on track to the bunker as soon as possible. He tossed the wrappers of his breakfast into the trash bin and headed for the door behind Sam. Just before he exited the room, a thought crossed his mind.

"Hey, Sam?" He called out as Sam walked up to the car.

Sam turned to look back at Dean with a confused look.

"What's up?"

"I can't exactly walk around or risk being seen like this.. Even in baby.." Dean gestured to his new facial feature and ears.

"Oh, right." Sam hesitated, trying to come up with a solution to their problem.

"Uh.. Oh! Do you have a hoodie?"

"A what?" Dean's facial features screwed up in confusion. It looked horrible, like a dog ready to sneeze.

"A jacket with a hood?" Sam clarified.

"Not with me, I think I have one back at the bunker though." Dean raised his shoulders in an uncertain shrug.

"Ya, that's not going to help us right now." Sam sighed.

Sam turned and put his duffel on the hood of the impala, rummaging through the contents until he found what he was looking for.

Sam then tossed a large dark grey jacket to Dean.

The jacket toss caught Dean off guard. The impact of the thing was almost enough to tip Dean over. Dean stumbled backwards a bit, trying to regain his balance and nearly losing his boots in the process.

"Hey! Don't throw it so hard! You nearly killed me!" Dean snapped.

"Oh! Sorry about that.." Sam didn't think he threw it _that_ hard..

"Sorry it's big, but it'll have to do. Just put it on and pull up the hood to cover your ears. I don't know if there's a lot to do about your , uh.. face." Sam informed, hoping to be of help. "I'll go check us out." Sam said before turning and walking into the motel office.

Dean grumbled a few words of compliance and pulled the large hooded jacket over his head. He was surprised when it almost fell off by sliding past his shoulders. He quickly pulled it back up and lifted the hood onto his head. The jack itself reached down to his mid thighs, not to mention the sleeves completely hiding his arms from sight. Dean shifted uncomfortably trying to adjust it to fit. "Jeez, this thing is a friggin' circus tent!" Dean complained as Sam came back from his task.

"Just trying to help dude." Sam picked up his duffle from atop the car and tossed it into the backseat before walking around to the driver's side of the car.

"Hey, wo, what do you think your doin'" Dean exclaimed up at Sam as he approached.

"Dude, look at yourself, there's no way you could drive." Sam pointed out. "Even if you could, I don't want to have my legs scrunched up the whole trip."

Sam did have a point.. Dean sighed in defeat, tossed his bag into the back as well, and climbed into the passenger seat.

The Impala was on the road in minutes.

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As they drove, Dean kept fidgeting in vain with his over-sized, borrowed jacket.

Every time he pulled up the sleeves they would just slide back down.

Soon he gave up, and with a huff of disapproval he brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around himself.

Sam glanced over to see Dean in that pose and found it disturbingly quite out of character.

They were small things, but Sam noticed that Dean had started acting strange as well.

He whined more, if that was even possible. He noticed Dean even quiver now and then. Heck, even how Dean held himself! Take for example his current position. It made Dean seem even smaller than he was. More fragile.

Even the thought of it brought Sam an unwelcome sick feeling.

Sam remembered what Dean had told him about the witch saying he would 'need help'. Dean's behavior seemed to somehow connect with her last words, scaring Sam even further.

If Dean really was becoming more fragile, than Sam was going to need to help out a lot more. He would need to be there for him. Even though Dean would most likely push him away.

Sam silently accepted the fate, his focus dead set on the road. A sense of responsibility surging through him.

Time passed and soon it was around noon.

Dean's stomach rumbled. He was hungry. He looked out the window and saw a sign for an upcoming diner. "Hey Sammy, turn here!" Dean ordered.

Sam quickly turned before missing the chance. "Um, ok.. why? Where we going?" Sam questioned with a surprised look on his face.

"You'll see, just pull up here ok?" Dean nearly pleaded.

Sam did as he was told. He look up before them and read the sign on the building.

"Really, Dean? A diner? What about your condition? I don't think someone with a dog face will be hard to miss.." Sam tried to reason.

"I'll just keep my head down and you'll order! No problem! Come on Sammy, let's go get some pie!" Dean exclaimed, exiting the Impala.

"Dean wait!" Sam tried to stop Dean but he was already walking up to the glass double doors. "Aw, come on!" Sam groaned, running to catch up with Dean.

Sam followed Dean inside to a small table in the corner. Dean quickly sat in the seat facing away from the other customers within the diner; Sam taking the seat across from him.

"Dude, what the heck are you doing!? What if people see you? You looked like some drunk toddler running in here! Your shoes nearly fell off, even!" Sam scolded.

Dean winced back ever so slightly, almost making Sam regret for barking at him like that.

"Wait, they did?" Dean look down at his shoes and grimaced. "Honestly they feel pretty tight.. Wait, but I'm shorter, how could they be tight?" Dean wondered aloud.

"You haven't noticed? Your legs are becoming more animal like as well. Your feet may be smaller but their longer too." Sam explained.

Dean just sat there with a bit of a nauseous look on his face.

"I'm done with this crap.. " Dean whined and buried his face into his arms which were loosely folded on the table.

"If you're so done, then why don't we go? The sooner we reach the bunker, the sooner we can look for a cure!" Sam quickly pointed out.

"You've been driving for a long, Sammy. That and, from the looks of it, you didn't get much sleep last night. Not only am I starving, but you need something to keep your energy up for the rest of the drive." Dean countered.

Sam sighed in defeat. "Fine, just keep your head down, ok?"

Dean smirked with a proud look of victory just as a waitress walked up to their table. Dean quickly turned to look out the window in order to hide his not so normal face.

"Hiya! What can I get you two?" She asked with a smile.

"I'll just get a coffee; black" Sam answered.

"Alrighty then, and what about you sweetie?" The waitress turned to Dean to take his order.

"Uh.." Dean hesitated.

"He'll have a bacon cheeseburger and a slice of apple pie." Sam covered.

"Super! I'll have that for you in a flash!" The waitress smiled and walked back to the front.

"Thanks." Dean smirked. "You really saved my bacon."

Sam glared at Dean. "Don't mention it." Sam sighed.

Not soon after the waitress returned with their meals.

"Here you are," She hummed giving Sam his coffee, "and for your son." She ended by placing Dean's food down as well.

"Uh.." Sam stuttered, attempting to correct her. Before he could, she had left.

"Well dad, drink up." Dean jested.

Sam had lost count of how many time he had glared at Dean that day.

The two dug into their food, hoping to be finished quickly and get back on the road.

As Dean neared the end of his meal, he found he couldn't stomach it all.

He pushed aside half of his cheeseburger so he could finish the pie, but even then he couldn't finish all of it. He pushed the plates away from him, signaling his finish.

"Already?" Sam eyed Dean curiously.

"You think I can eat all that at this size?"

"Hm, maybe next time we'll have you order off the kids menu." Sam said slyly.

Dean would have shot out a clever comeback, but he wasn't feeling' too hot.

He merely groaned and pressed his forehead against the table.

Sam's gaze softened as he watched his older, but smaller brother bend over in pain.

"C'mon, let's go."

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It had been almost four hours since they left the diner.

The sun had slowly made its way across the sky and seemed excited to set.

Dean had his small forehead pressed against the window, trying to ride out the pain in his gut that seemed to have gotten worse since lunch. He felt the pain roll around within him, threatening release the contents of his stomach.

 _He hadn't eaten that much.. had he?_

Every now and then, an involuntary groan escaped him.

This worried Sam. Sam would occasionally look over to check on Dean.

Dean curled up even further into an ocean of a jacket. An ocean that seemed to have gotten even bigger within the past few hours.

Not long after 4:30 in the afternoon, Dean felt something shift inside him.

It wasn't the full sick feeling he had felt earlier, although that was definitely still there.

No, this pain was sharp. It was an obvious and horrifying feeling.

Almost as if someone had grabbed something near his lung and dragged it down somewhere else in his body. In fact that was exactly what it felt like. Dean froze. A look of horror and pain on his face. He leaned forward, releasing a small and faint gasp.

Sam barely heard this, and turned his head ever so slightly to get a glimpse at Dean.

Dean was bent over, coughing.

"You ok, bud?" Sam asked, trying to focus on the road and his brother at the same time.

As if to answer him, Dean's coughs became raspy gargles as he began to wretch into his cupped palms. Sam quickly signaled and pulled off to the side of the road in order to give Dean his full attention. As soon as they rolled to a bumpy stop, Sam shifted the car into park and lean over to Dean. He placed a hand on Dean's small back trying to comfort him in some way.

Soon it was apparent that Dean wasn't cupping his hands for nothing, something was coming up.

Sam leaped out of the car and ran around to the other side, swinging the door open and grabbing his brother, pulling him out into the open so that he wouldn't make a mess inside the Impala.

Dean continued to cough and sputter, now aimed at the ground with one hand on his knee and the other grabbing Sam's arm for support.

"Easy there, ok?" Sam tried to comfort, but Dean couldn't hear.

His ears were ringing and his throat was too tight to respond. It took a surprising amount of effort, but before long what ever it was that wanted to make a debut, arrived.

A scarlet stream escaped mixed with dark chunks of red and black.

Sam was startled by what he saw. Terrified.

It looked like his brother just hacked up and organ!

Soon Dean was just coughing and sputtering. Sam grabbed some spare napkins from inside the Impala and handed them to Dean, who used them to wipe off his face and hands.

After Sam was sure Dean was ok, he looked down to observe what his brother had coughed up.

It was definitely blood. What it was mixed with, he couldn't say.

Dean whimpered.

Dean Winchester whimpered.

Sam stared at him, confusion and concern washed over his face.

"Hey, Dean, look at me. Are you ok?" Sam shook his brother's shoulder slightly, attempting to get a response from him. Dean silently nodded his head, staring off into space. His small hand came up and grabbed Sam's coat. Sam sighed with slight relief and pulled his brother into a hug. He could feel Dean small frame shiver within the large jacket. Dean clung to Sam like he was the only thing keeping him alive. It scared Sam.

Sam decided that they would have spend the night at a hotel to be sure Dean was feeling well. He wasn't sure if he wanted another sick surprise in the car.

He silently helped his brother back inside the Impala. After making sure Dean was settled he walked around to the other side and climbed in. The engine revved with life and they sped away to find a cheap motel where they could spend the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Howdy! Here it is! Chapter 4!**

 **So sorry about the wait, school is kind of... a thing.. ANYWAY! - Another special thanks to my friend Crianu for helping me out with the chapter! I don't have much to say, so here are the chapter warnings!**

 **Chapter Warnings: sick!Dean, hugs, thumb war, rock paper scissors, forehead kiss (NO WINCEST)**

 **Disclaimers: See first chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Not long after Dean's little incident, they found an average, run-down motel. Sam didn't like the idea of having to stop for the night, but he could tell that the motion of the car on the road wasn't helping his brothers condition. That, and Dean seemed pretty darn motion sick.

He pulled the impala up in a parking space near the check in desk of the motel. He parked but let the engine run, "You gonna be ok while I get us a room?" Sam looked over to Dean, worry evident in his voice. Dean warily lifted up his head, nodding ever so slightly. Sam merely sighed in response before exiting the impala and entered the small office. He quickly paid for a room for the night with cash and acquired their room key. Not wanting to be away any longer from Dean, he rushed out of the office and entered the impala. Once in he looked over to Dean's seat. It was empty.

Sam leapt out of the car, "Dean!?, he shouted, spinning in circles, looking for his older, but smaller brother. Sam caught sight of a small dark figure hunched over by the bushes, coughing horribly. Sam, without hesitation, rushed to his brothers side, trying to comfort his sick kin. Sam could only place his hand on Dean's now smaller back as to support him. After a few more coughing fits with no bile result, Dean seemed to finally relax from his former tense stance. "Dean.." Sam cautiously asked, "You ok?" Dean cleared his throat before responding with,

"Ya, I'm ok. I'm sorry I just didn't want to make a mess in the Impala.." The sentence sounded so guilty, which struck Sam as extremely odd.

"C'mon, I'm going to move the impala." Sam said, handing the room key to Dean. He then quickly added, "Will you be ok?" Dean had just about had it with that phrase.

"Ya, Sam, I'll be fine." He snatched the key out of Sam's hand and walked off to find their room, all the while grumbling under his breath about Sam being such a girl.

Sam pulled the impala around to park in a spot just outside their room. He exited the car, retrieved their duffel bags from the back seat, and approached Dean who was fumbling around with the room key. Sam just stood and stared as Dean tried over and over to insert the key into its designated lock.

"Need any help?" Sam asked curiously. Dean jumped unexpectedly and dropped the key.. again.

"No." Dean snapped, bending over to pick up the key.. again. Sam rolled his eyes and extended his hand.

"Here, allow me." Dean glared at Sam's palm before cautiously placing the key in the callused hand. Sam took it and quickly unlocked the door with ease, swinging it open to reveal their grimy room. Sam entered, dumping their bags on the floor near the table and tossing the keys to the room and the impala on the table top before collapsing on one of the beds. He looked over to find his brother still in the doorway, staring at his hands.

Sam lifted his head and stared at his brother, bothered by Dean's expression. He almost look scared. Sam's facial features softened as he stood up and walked over to Dean. Although Dean was acting odd, Sam couldn't be too hard on him. This whole curse thing was really freaky. Just two days ago Dean was his normal height and human. At this point, With how fast Dean was changing into... whatever he was becoming, Sam didn't really know if he could call Dean human anymore. So much had changed about his brother. It was pretty freaky just to look at him now, Dean had lost 6 inches throughout the day and was now standing at about 4"10.

As Sam approached, Dean stayed where he was, staring at his hands. "What's up?" Sam asked, a softness in his voice. Dean looked up at Sam, a distant look upon his face.

"Do my hands look right to you?" Dean asked worriedly, holding his hands upwards to be inspected. Sam actually found himself staring at them as well. The spaces between his fingers were slightly lengthened, the fingers evidently not as long. It wasn't anything too bad, but it was noticeable. After a moment of thought Sam shrugged,

"Maybe you're getting paws.." He guessed. That didn't seem to help. Dean's expression went from horrified to sick. He rushed over to the bathroom without another word. Soon after, Sam could hear coughing and gagging. He quickly closed the door to their room and hurried over to the bathroom. He entered to find his brother bent over the toilet bowl. While he was revolted by the sounds Dean was making in his effort to unveil his lunch, he felt the need to comfort his brother. Sam kneeled down next to his smaller brother, running his down up and down Dean's back in an effort to sooth him. It was unsettling just how much smaller it was now. It was so fragile now. Sam tried to clear his mind, push the weird away. He needed to take care of his brother.

After Dean coughed up whatever was left inside of him and stained the white stone of the toilet with red, he slumped down, exhausted. He was taking quick, labored breaths. Before Sam could ask him if he was ok for the 60th time that night, Dean fell to the side, leaning on Sam's chest. Sam was taken aback, raising his hands up, but then was not sure what to do with them. "Dean.."

"Shut up…", came the winded reply. Sam could feel Dean's smaller frame shivering terribly against him. Sam's expression softened with concern. In the back of his mind he made the mental note that the witches last words were starting to make sense. He could worry about that later though. Right now, he had a sick, tired, and frightened brother to deal with.

Sam sighed in defeat, put his already risen arms around Dean, and hugged him.

Dean's body seemed to relax into him, accepting the hug.

They sat there on the cold, dirty bathroom floor for a long time.

They didn't talk about it.

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Dean lay on his bed. He had cleaned up since the bathroom incident and was now wearing an extremely large pair of boxers held up by a shoe lace tied around his waist and a large T-shirt. The most awkward part about this was that these were his own clothes. His clothes that didn't fit him anymore.

He wasn't feeling so nauseous now, it had been an hour or so since the whole bathroom scene. Although his stomach didn't hurt anymore, everything else did. He could feel things moving around. Like someone dipping their hand into a bowl of pasta and using it to stir the contents. Nothing seemed to sit right. He felt uncomfortable in any position he tried. He had currently resorted to laying on his stomach. Sadly, he could no longer lay face down. It didn't feel right. After some thought, Dean brought his hand up to his face, feeling what used to be the bridge of his nose and sliding his fingers down to what he guessed was his nose. It was now more noticeable, especially from his point of view. He found it distracting. He assumed it had gotten longer since he last laid down this morning. He was guessing it was about.. 3 inches? All of this was so overwhelming. Dean didn't know how much of this he could take. He moved his hands in front of him, observing the changes. He noted that he couldn't feel his fingers very well. It was almost as if his hands had fallen asleep. Suddenly, a thought (rare I know) came to mind. If he really was getting paws… then…

"Sam!" Dean suddenly shouted.

"What!?" Sam burst through the bathroom door, a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

"Let's have a thumb war!" Dean shouted back, despite Sam being right there.

Sam stood staring at Dean for an eternity. Sam brow was furrowed and his mouth quirked to the side, along with the toothbrush that stuck goofily out of his mouth.

"C'mon Sammy! You know how thumb wars work right?" Dean teased, sitting up. "One two three four, I declare a thumb war!" Dean exclaimed, extending his hand.

Sam's shoulders slumped in defeat, holding up his hand in a "hold on" gesture.

Dean waited impatiently while Sam finished brushing his teeth. His hand was still outstretched when Sam came out. Sam sat on his bed, facing his brother who sat on his. Sam eyed Dean's .. hand.. cautiously before finally taking it in his. It felt weird. Hard. Sam tried his best to ignore this and give way to Dean's antics. Their thumbs twirled around each other, continually trying to pin down the latter. Sam constantly won. Dean wouldn't quit though, a bead of sweat rolled down his brow due to his forced concentration. Eventually Dean was able to pin Sam's thumb down, obviously without Sam going easy on him. Obviously…

"Are you satisfied?" Sam asked, annoyance in his tone.

"C'mon Sammy, we're just getting started!" Dean grinned, lifting his hands up. He made a fist with one and a flat surface with the other. He then proceeded to beat his fist against his open palm three times. "Rock, paper, scissors!" Sam rolled his eyes but gave in easily.

"Rock, paper, scissors." He replied, doing the same.

They revealed their hands. Sam had a rock. Dean and paper.

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

Sam won with a rock.

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

Dean won with paper.

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

Sam won with a rock.

"Sammy, you can't keep using rock!" Dean glared playfully.

Sam smiled, "Fine, fine! Rock, paper, scissors!"

Sam won with scissors.

They went at it for over half an hour.

Soon however, Dean couldn't feel his fingers at all, is scissors were sloppy and his rocks looked like O's. Sam could sense the frustration radiating from Dean, but Dean looked perfectly happy. He acted as if nothing was wrong. Like it was fine. Sam decided not to mention it, knowing perfectly well that Dean was aware.

In the end, Dean won their little championship.

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Dean had gone back to sitting on his bed. He was unable to type on a laptop or turn pages in a book. He was pretty much useless. He couldn't research or even help straighten up the room. He tried to curl and stretch his fingers but with little result. Sam was sitting on his bed, typing away. Dean sighed, shifting uncomfortably, the sick feeling not quite gone. As he sat on his bed, feeling his insides stir and his fingers stiffen, something crashed into him. It felt like a truck had hit him square in the head. A powerful migraine pulsing within his mind. He felt exhausted.

He restlessly tossed and turned, begging for sleep to come. It did not. As he glanced around the room his eyes fell to where his brother was researching. Dean suddenly wanted his brother and without thinking, moved over to Sam's bed and curled up next to him. Sam, taken off guard, watched Dean squirm uncomfortably, holding his head. "Headache..?" Sam asked, trying to be of use. Dean curled his head into his knees and said nothing. Sam closed his laptop and turned his attention to his brother. He could see him trembling. This frightened Sam. He didn't know what to do. This terrified him more than any monster. "Hey" said Sam, rubbing Dean's back. "We're gonna get through this, we always get through these kind of things." Dean's shaking lessened at the comforting words of his brother. "You're probably beat. You should get some sleep." Sam scooped Dean up in his arms as if he was a toddler; Dean being too tired to protest, remained motionless.

He walked over to the other bed and set Dean into it pulling the covers up to his chin. Dean lay there doing absolutely nothing. Sam looked at him and did something that he thought he would never do; He leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

Afterwards, without even thinking about the previous events, Sam got in his own bed. He looked over to where the small figure of his brother rose and fell in slow breaths. _Please.._ Sam thought, _Please.. give us a break… no more weird. Just let us wake up to a normal morning, no crazy changes. Let us fix this. Let_ _ **me**_ _fix this…_

And with that, Sam dozed off; his hopes high. For a while, it seemed as though his prayers had been answered. Until at 4 am, Sam woke up to the sound of the door being kicked down...


	5. Chapter 5

**OK - I am so sorry for the wait.. again. Deadlines are coming up fast and I'm trying to get school work done ;o;**

 **This one is a bit short due to my limited time, but I promise that next chapter will definitely be longer. Crianu is also dealing with deadlines and was not able to help me with this chapter. More apologies. We'll try to make it up to you, promise! Please review and tell me what you think! ;v; I love hearing from you guys!**

 **Chapter warnings: evil bathroom door ,, a tear ,, new features ,, an awkward hug**

 **Disclaimer: See first chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Dean was dreaming when he felt it; another shift of his insides. His eyes flew open. Only this time, it was out of recognition; not terror. He knew this feeling. He sat up, the full feeling in his gut evident. He sat up from his bed, glancing around the dark motel room. Upon glancing over at Sam's bed, he could see that the Sasquatch was still asleep. His mountain of covers rising and falling gently with each lazy breath.

Dean couldn't see much in the dark, but he could easily identify a dark rectangle as the bathroom door. Dean swung his legs off the side of the bed while pulling away his covers, allowing fresh cold air to brush his skin. He shivered slightly as he attempted to stand. He couldn't feel his legs all that well, causing him to wonder if his legs fell asleep. After some effort, he resorted to an awkward tiptoe that was a bit more comfortable for his numb legs. He clumsily wandered to the bathroom door and reached out for the handle. As he tried to bend his fingers to grab the handle, he found that he could not feel them at all. His hand merely slipped off the handle. Dean huffed angrily; reached up again. Same result. After a bit he decided to try and use two hands. They both slid off easily. Dean cursed under his breath. Maybe it would be easier to open the door if he could actually see his hands. After a bit of scrambling with the handle, a panic rose in Dean. He had to go. Now. Soon his movements were frantic as he tried time and time again to open the door. That's when Dean had enough. He had to go, and there was no way a door was going to stop him. Dean stepped back, raised his foot high, and kicked at the door with all the force and strength he could muster in his now smaller body. The door was reluctant to open however, and Dean fell backwards onto his butt. He got up quickly, anger, impatience, and desperation driving him forward as he butted the door with his shoulder. This time the door seemed to have gotten bored of Dean and swung wide open. Dean yelped in triumph and entering the bathroom as a very confused Sam bolted upright, gasping from shock and terror. "What, who, where!?"

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Sam sat up quickly, jolted awake by the sound of the door. He hastily looked around the motel room only to find that the door to their room was fine. He looked over to the bathroom door to find it partially closed with light leaking out of it. Dean wasn't in his bed and by the looks of it, the door appeared to have been kicked in. Sam connected the dots easily. He got up, rubbing his face tiredly and approached the door. "Dean?.." He called softly. He heard the sound of someone using the restroom and flushing. Afterwards he heard an odd scuffling and water from the sink running, then the same odd scuffling and the sound of the water being turned off. Then nothing. Sam waited. Still nothing. As Sam stood there in the darkness an aching worry began to flood his groggy mind, hardly able to even comprehend itself. "Dean?" Same called again, this time a bit louder. Dean didn't reply right away. After a few moments that felt like hours, Dean's voice shakily replied.

"Sammy.."

Dean sounded tired, not just physically, but mentally.

"You wanna come out of there?" Sam asked. Then a thought crossed his mind. "Did you.. Uh.. change?"

Dean cleared his throat beyond the door. ".. Yes.. " He answered.

Sam's eyes widened when he heard it. His brother sounded like he was going to cry. "Dean, what's wrong?" The question hastily flying of his lips as his mind jump started into the waking world, the sleepy fog clearing from his mind.

Sam heard a sniffle.

That was it. Sam opened the door to find Dean standing in the middle of the bathroom, hiding his hands behind his back. He eyes were a bit watery but he was obviously trying to hide it. This wasn't like Dean at all. The fact the Dean was acting less and less like his normal self was making itself present in Sam's thoughts. "Dean, why are you crying-"

"I'M NOT" Dean shouted back, cutting through Sam's words.

"Shh, Dean, c'mon what happened now?" Sam tried again.

A single tear tried to escape Dean's eye, but Deans hard blink to trap it failed and it glided down his cheek.

Sam rushed up, grabbed him, and pulled him into a hug.

Dean had lost a few inches in the night and now stood at 4"4. Sam had to practically kneel to hug him properly.

Dean buried his nose into Sam's shoulder and tried to calm himself.

After a couple of stifled sniffles and whimpers, Dean pulled back from his younger brothers grasp. He then silently slid his arms out from behind his back and held them up.

Sam stared at Dean for a long time.

Instead of hands, Dean's arms were sporting hooves.

Sam cautiously reached out and took hold of one, hoping that what he was seeing was an illusion due to him just waking up. Nope, definitely real.

"Sam.. what are we going to do?..."

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Dean had taken a seat on his bed while Sam paced worriedly back and forth the Room.

"Well, it would explain why you were hacking up blood." Sam finally slowed and gestured to Dean's hooves.

"And why do you say that?" Dean asked grumpily.

"Well, two reasons. One, if you have hooves, then you're becoming a herbivore. Herbivores can't eat meat. They would most likely just hack it back up. So eating that burger yesterday didn't do you any favors." Same reasoned.

"Okay, but why blood?" Dean asked.

"Well, it appears that you're changing on the inside as well. You were lucky enough to eat that burger while your stomach was making a few adjustments."

Dean groaned and held his gut, "So that's what all these feelings have been.."

Dean's expression turned sad before he straightened back up and tried to get a grip on his emotions.

Dean found it harder and harder to do so. It felt like his emotions were too big for his small body and if things continued as they were, he would break down sobbing like a child.

"I'm going to call Kevin and let him know what happened to us last night." Sam said, then taking a step out of the room to converse quietly.

Dean nodded in acknowledgement before raising his hands.. Er , hooves, to observe them.

They weren't exactly like any hooves he had ever seen. They were undeniably hooves but them seemed to blend in the color of his coat. Dean stopped.

His coat?

Dean leaned in and looked at his wrist.

Sure enough there was a thin layer of what appeared to be fur.

He had no idea how he could have missed this! Had this happened last night? Or did it happen gradually? Honestly, Dean couldn't say. He doubted Sam had noticed either.

This led to Dean walking into the bathroom and staring at himself in the mirror.

'Is there anything else I've missed?..', he thought worriedly to himself.

Dean turned to get a glimpse of his back and found the his back hairline had begun to inch down his neck. Not only that but his neck even seemed a tad bit longer.

He shifted slightly again and felt something odd…

He lifted his shirt and looked down his back.

He was greeted with the sight of a small tail..

Like a horsetail?

Was that what he was becoming?

A horse?

If that was the case, then surely he would grown rather than shrink.. Right?

Questions began to spin around rapidly in his mind. He balance wavered as confusion threw itself into the deep mix of worry and horror.

Sam came back in, pocketing his cell phone.  
"We need to get going if we're going to get to the bunker today." Sam said nonchalantly as he began to pack the few things he had gotten out last night.

"We can pick up breakfast on the way."

Dean tried his best to push his troubling thoughts into the back of his mind.

They were going to fix this. They just had to get to the bunker where Sam and Kevin will find a spell or some antidote. 'Ya, everything's going to be fine.' Dean reassured himself.

He got up to pack up his few things as well.

When he went to pick up his things, however, his shorts began to slowly slide down. He hastily tried to grab at them to pull the back up. He did his best to keep them up and looked at his younger brother.

This caught Sam's attention and he turned to find Dean struggling with his shorts, his face bright red and his ears flattened down in shame.

"Do you … Do you think you could help tie my belt.. Thing..?" Dean asked, obviously embarrassed.

Sam's eyebrows shot upwards in an, "oh.." Expression.

Sam, also a bit embarrassed, helped tighten the shoe lace around Dean's waist that was acting as a makeshift belt.

As he stepped back, Dean let go from holding up his shirt and it fell down to reach his knees. Dean struggled once more to try and keep the shirt from slipping right off him.

Sam sighed in defeat, and spoke the words Dean feared.

"Look like we're going clothes shopping today."


End file.
